Going Slighly Mad
by FelinesAndPhoenixes
Summary: Crackfic request. Germany ranting at France about how much life sucks. France started it, I swear. No pairings. Not that great, but a request....see inside for details, I suppose. Rating for language.


**Title: **Going Slightly Mad

**Summary: **Germany just so happens to freak out at France…..

**Disclaimer: **Title from a Panic at the Disco song. I own nothing. Clearly.

**Really really important author's note: **If after reading this fic, you get the urge to stab someone, I suggest my friend fanfic author KatHawkins who is the one that suggested this fic. (Oh, and I dedicate this to her, of course.) By the way, rated for language. I say the eff word a few times.

I have taken the majority of Germany's dialogue from some texts that I was sending to another friend yesterday. There is a really long explanation for why the hell I was saying the things I was saying to her, but let's just go with that I roleplay as Germany and sometimes get a little ridiculous, crazy and/or otherwise silly with it. This leads to these texts, which lead to fanfiction requests…..I can't normally turn down a request unless I just know nothing about the fandom. I'm special. Oh, by the way, my fanfictions always tend to be a little sarcastic, especially when they're essentially crack like this. Here for your viewing pleasure, are the texts that I sent to my friend yesterday. This conversation started when she told me that she wanted to go by jelly because she wouldn't eat her toast without it. (She was housesitting and was leaving that night and had jelly at home. I was saying that buying jelly for one piece of toast was a stupid plan.)  
_"Jelly. Honestly… Just eat money. We all did, back in the day." (she expresses confusion)  
"Lit our cigarettes with fives, too. And of course we played the violin. Angstily. Until a string broke, but no one was making them anymore. Bread was $100 a loaf then. My question is where the flying fuck did we get cigarettes?"(she's still confused)  
"Times were hard, I'm telling you. Wore the same jacket for six years. Had to keep patching it. I looked like a hobo. We all did. And no money for hair gel… Gave my overcoat to a pregnant woman in Munich. Times were hard, and yet no one thought to make the clergy into meat pies…" (this is where I get text slapped)  
" You would smack me for giving my overcoat to a pregnant woman? Have you no manners, mein herr? We all had to make sacrifices. There was no food, little water… We would drop a hot dog in the street and be bombarded with 'it's just a little dirty, it's still good, it's still good!'." (to which I get slapped again)  
"Really, sir, you have no manners. You would rather the people die? Are not the people the most important thing?"  
_Then the conversation randomly changed, and it had no relevance to this. I think I was finally confusing her. She had no idea what the hell I was talking about. I didn't really either. I was making it up as I went along. Again, you are _not _to take this as a serious fic.

On with it then….

It was a beautiful day. Or at least what passed as beautiful day. At least it had been until France had showed up. Normally, that wouldn't be that bad. But today….today was special. Today he wanted to talk about the treaty of Versailles and the $33 billion debt. When one shows up at random and starts a conversation with wondering when they will be receiving what they are owed….it is obvious that it is going to be a long day.

At first, it really hadn't been that bad. But then, France had started talking about how bad it was back home, and how they _really _needed the money. And Germany felt like he was going slightly mad. France thought that _his _life sucked. No. And when France flat out implied that he was worse off….well, he was having none of that. No sir.

"Just…just eat money!" Germany exclaimed. "We all did, back in the day!"

"What?" France asked, thrown for a loop, now genuinely confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Money!" Germany said. "So abundant, and yet it has such little value…just eat that! We did, I'm telling you. Lit our cigarettes with fives, too! And of course we played the violin! Angstily!" He frowned in confusion, wondering where the hell the rant was coming from. Maybe he really was going mad. "Until a string broke, but no one was making them anymore! Bread was $100 a loaf then. My question is where the flying fuck did we get cigarettes?" His hands fluttered madly through the air as he gesticulated wildly.

"Er…what?" France asked. "I'm not sure I know what you're talking about…"

"Times were _hard_," he elaborated. "I'm telling you. Wore the same jacket for six years. Had to keep patching it. Learned to sew that year. I looked like a hobo! We all did. And no money for hair gel… Gave my overcoat to a pregnant woman in Munich. Times were hard, and yet no one thought to make the clergy into meat pies…."

"Meat pies?" France asked. "The clergy? That's…._what_?!"

"They're doing it in England," Germany said with an impatient wave of his hand. "That Sweeney Todd fellow?"

"And you…what about pregnant women in Munich?" France frowned. "You have to get ahold of yourself, man!" He grabbed Germany by the lapels and gave him a good shake before smacking him soundly in the face.

"You wouldsmack me for giving my overcoat to a pregnant woman?" he asked incredulously. "Have you no manners, mein herr? We all had to make sacrifices. There was no food, little water… We would drop a hot dog in the street and be bombarded with 'it's just a little dirty, it's still good, it's still good!'."

"I'm not sure what that has to do with anything," France said. "And who would eat a hot dog after it had been on the ground? Really, you _must _get a grip." He gave him another sound smack to the face and tilted his head. "Did that help?"

"Really, sir," came the reply, "you have no manners. You would rather the people die? Are not the people the most important thing?"

"You know, on second thought," France said, backing away slowly, "I think that you can just…hold onto that money for now. I'm just going to be going home now…. Have a _splendid _day." With a little flourishy bow, he turned on his heel and scampered away.

Germany stared after him with a slightly crazy laugh. Dear god he needed a vacation….

**Author's Note: **Oh, yeah. The reason he's talking to France is because that's what KatHawkins requested.

If you want a better sample of my writing, I suggest disregarding this entirely and picking something else off of my profile. Thanks.

Questions? Comments? Concerns? Review.


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